


Boarded, Burned, and Buried at Sea

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst, Angst and Feels, Bedtime Stories, Best Friends, Bonding, Bully Zach, Bullying, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s08e05 Blood Brother, Episode: s08e09 Citizen Fang, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, I'm Very Late on Tags, Insomniac Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Middle School, Redeemed John Winchester, References To Those Episodes, Sleepovers, Spoilers Up to s08e09, Storytelling, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but also fluff, vampirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8778616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: “Please. You may be as big as me, but all that bloat is your heart. You make the Grinch look like a total softie. What're you gonna do?"Benny stares at Zach a little longer, face turning hot against the cold weather as a small crowd of other kids slide into the scene like magnets. Dean feels the need to speak up, but just like always, his words get trapped in his chest and form icicles. That said, he would rather sit and wait for them to thaw than risk hurting his lungs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the line from "Blood Brothers", s08e05, which I have unashamedly washed more than any other episode of the show.

 

Dean's not a fan of winter.

The itchy hats and scarfs and gloves and the coats that make him look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, frankly, cramp his twelve-year-old style. There's also the obvious fact by the way he's shaking back and forth in his boots that look like Hello Kitty’s cruel demise that  _none_ of this stuff keeps him warm. Dean, as much as he'll trick people by puffing out his chest and standing on his toes when Sammy is in danger, isn't very big. The kids at school always make fun of his freckles and light green eyes because everyone else doesn't have them—at least not together. They call him Pretty Boy. They say it the way a parakeet says 'Pretty Bird'.

That's another thing about Dean. When it comes to standing up for himself, he takes the hits as they come. They're usually only verbal anyway—the kids have seen his Light side go Dark all too quick with his little brother. And he probably deserves it. He's not sure what he's done wrong, but there's always this nasty feeling in his stomach like he's made the same old mistake of eating too much Halloween candy. Except it's not candy, because it's acidic. When his dad barks at him to quit being so weird is when he notices the funny taste rise. Or at anything his dad says, really. But it's probably just Dean.

So needless to say, when someone sticks up for him, he's taken by surprise. The boy seems to swoop in out of nowhere like a carrier pigeon, and utters a single phrase that sends chills down Dean’s spine:

“‘Nuff is ‘nuff, Zach.”

Zach, who looks more like a pigeon than the boy in front of Dean with his wide unblinking eyes, laughs, “Benny, you’ve got to be joking.”

The boy, Benny, who carries a hint of a Southern accent, doesn’t move. “Does it look like I’m muffin’ an’ puffin’ jus’ to joke?”

“Please. You may be as big as me, but all that bloat is your heart. You make the  _Grinch_ look like a total softie. What’re you gonna do?”

Benny stares at Zach a little longer, face turning hot against the cold weather as a small crowd of other kids slide into the scene like magnets. Dean feels the need to speak up, but just like always, his words get trapped in his chest and form icicles. That said, he would rather sit and wait for them to thaw than risk hurting his lungs.

“Let’s go,” Benny says after a minute, breaking his stare as Benny starts guiding him towards class.

There’s scattered noise of disapproval from the crowd, but Zachariah’s voice is the loudest, shouting at the two of them names Dean would never repeat to another human being. Not because he wouldn’t want to, but because, as many jerks as there are at Macleod Elementary, he hasn’t found someone worthy of those names.

When they reach Mrs. Tate’s is when they’re facing each other for the first time, and Dean notes just how handsome Benny is. He has short, peanut butter brown hair and chipmunk cheeks that push up his eyes, a light blue that make Dean feel calm, like he’s looking up at clear skies rather than what they really are right now, which is overcast and gloomy. His lips are thin, but, as Dean will come to know, make really nice smiles.

They exchange small talk, nothing too earth-shattering. Dean’s not much of a talker anyway, since he spends most of his time with his chatty eight-year-old brother. If there’s such thing as a human sponge, Sam’s it: He’s satisfaction-guaranteed full of useless facts and knowledge and doesn’t bother waiting for anyone to rinse it out of him. So it’s nice Dean’s encouraged to talk, even if it’s something as small as a yes or no.

Eventually, in a matter of a few short weeks, he and Benny become best friends. Or at least that’s what Dean calls someone who walks with him everywhere at school, shares lunch, and offers to be his class partner unfailingly. The last one means the most to Dean, granted he usually partners with Garth, who’s really nice, but, like Sam, tends to be one-sided with their conversations. That, and Garth gets them in trouble for how much he talks during class, and Dean doesn’t need another reason for his dad to hate him.

Even though that’s exactly what happens when he tells his father about Benny. Not so much the perfect hue of blue his eyes are, or the way Dean feels warms and fuzzier when Benny refers to him as “Chief”. Just that he’s a good friend and he wants to have him over for the weekend.

John refuses. He says Benny comes from a long line of scum—one of the milder words he uses—and that he doesn’t want Dean turning into scum. 

It’s ironic, because he calls Dean similar names almost every day. Except for the ones he’s gone for work.

Dean hatches an idea: He’ll have Benny over on the nights his father’s gone.

Dean’s never hosts sleepovers—it’s kind of hard to with no friends to host for. The closest he’s gotten is with Sam, and those are pretty fun. They would build pillow forts as makeshift houses and eat ice cream for dinner. But with Benny, it’ll be different. Benny knows a little bit about him, but not everything. Benny doesn’t know his favorite movies, or his favorite late-night snack, or that he hates airplanes. Dean’s ready to share himself with someone else—a rare opportunity he never thought he would get outside his family.

But, then again, Benny  _is_  family.

"I didn't know what'a bring, so I brought everythin'," Benny says as he steps through the door. Once inside, he gestures to the six-pack of Pepsi in the hand not occupying his backpack. Tucked between the crook of his elbow is every bag of potato chips imaginable, and slung over his shoulder is half a dozen packages of licorice.  
  
"Holy crap, Benny, did you rob Willy Wonka on the way over?!" Dean rushes to help Benny with the soda and some of the chips. In the parkway is a beat-up sedan, in which two people wave to Dean. Dean waves back. "Are those your parents in the car?"  
  
Benny nods. "Yeah, my mom an’ stepdad."

"Cool. I've never had a stepparent. My dad just chooses not to get married again after my mom died."  
  
"Yeah, Mom wan’t expectin’ to marry again. Neither of us were. My stepdad just sorta came into our lives a year or two after my dad passed away. But he makes ‘er happy, so."  
  
Dean's used to talking about his mom, since that's all his dad ever talks about since her passing seven and a half years ago, but when a parent's death falls off the lips of someone else, it sounds like rain around against his ears. It’s cold and loud, but it rain also washes everything clean before the sun comes back around again, and makes you feel not so cold, and gives voice to flowers—even the weeds poking through cracks in sidewalks.

So, needless to say, Dean swells with a mix of emotions, but settles for the response adults usually give out: “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“’s okay,” Benny says, “I didn’t know him all that well, I was two or three.”

“Your parents seem nice,” Dean says, and can’t help but think of his father’s sour words about the Lafittes’. “You know, for letting you stay over without someone older.”

Benny ducks his head. “Yeah, they don’t know. They think your dad’s on a milk run.”

Dean punches Benny in the shoulder with a wide smile. “Benny, you rebel!”

Dean comes to learn Benny as a lot of things that night. Like when dinner rolls around the corner and Dean picks up the phone to order pizza and Benny snatches the phone out of his hand and claims he won’t let Dean’s mouth anywhere near that “greasy, cheap stuff” and that he’ll make one from scratch.

Dean laughs, but then Benny’s moving towards the kitchen with his backpack in tow, unzipping the large part, and pulling out a neatly folded apron. Dean continues watching in awe as Benny washes his hands, and grabs the necessary items. Once the dough is formed and ready for smushing, Benny beckons for Dean.

“Wow,” Dean laughs, “I didn’t think you were serious! Alright, what do you want me to do?”

Benny moves out from the corner of the kitchen to give Dean access. “Just knead the dough. Like a cat, using the bony part of your palm. Do that until it’s in a circle.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Dean throws his head back and purses his lips. “Alright.”

“Actually,” Benny says, coming up behind Dean after a minute or so, “a little more like this.” Benny says, demonstrating, and Dean can swear he’s doing the exact same thing, but it’s hard to concentrate with Benny pressed against his back, which is warm and inviting. He’s practically canvased in cologne, but not the kind the guys in P.E. use after running a mile. It’s more subtle, more natural.

Dean’s not sure how long they’re standing here, but Dean dumbly pipes up, “So, uh… cooking, huh?”

“Perks of growin’ up with a single mom. Not that men can’t do it, but ya know,” Benny rambles.

“Ah.”

 “…Yeah.”

The pizza is good. Dean thinks his compliments wear off eventually, because Benny smiles a lot wider simply watching Dean eat. Which, he thinks, as they wind down for bed, is gross. Like, really gross. Dean smiles way too much when he eats something really good, so all his food was probably showing.

It’s not an excuse, but Dean wasn’t entirely smiling because of the pizza.

“Night, Benny.”

“Night, Chief.”

This is the part that’s the most difficult: falling asleep. There’s an equal share to blame, between trying to get comfortable and trying to stop his mind from keeping him up, and counting sheep can only do so good when he gets to 500.

Dean flops over and groans, muting the sound by crushing his ears with his pillow.

“Dean, you okay?”

Benny’s voice carries too much concern for Dean’s liking. God, why does he have to be so stupid?

“Yeah, I’m just… I don’t know,” Dean sighs. “I just have this thing.”

“It’s alright,” he hears Benny say from the floor, “a lot of people have’a lotta things.”

“Yeah, well, sleep is mine. Sleep and me are not on good terms.”

There’s a pause, then: “Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah… nah, it’s okay. I’ll fall asleep eventually. Sorry if I woke you.”

Dean can practically see Benny’s smile, even though he’s below him and it’s pitch-black. “No sorry necessary.” A few minutes goes by—or maybe an hour, Dean got rid of his alarm clock a while ago, it’s too stressful for him—and then he hears Benny roll onto his side by the slippery fabric of his sleeping bag. “What about bedtime stories?”

“What about them?”

“Maybe that’ll help,” Benny offers.

“Benny, we’re too old for bedtime stories.”

“Says who?”

“I dunno, the Growing Up Rulebook.” After another break in speech, during which Dean decides this is too stupid of a first argument to have between them, Dean sighs, throws himself up, and flips the light switch on. “Come on up.” Benny’s mouth pops open like a lid on a soda can. Dean voices his concerns, albeit with a blush on his face: “You don’t have to sleep _in_ bed with me, it’s just so I can see you better.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘kay,” Benny says, slipping out of his bag and moving to sit tentatively on the edge of the bed as Dean settles as best he can beneath the covers again.

“Actually,” Dean starts, embarrassed he’s even asking: “Could you scoot closer? Like halfway up?”

“Sure, yeah,” Benny agrees. Once he’s next to Dean, he rubs his neck. “Uh, what story do ya wanna hear?”

Dean shrugs. “Anything, I guess.”

And anything is what Benny comes up with, commencing a string of secret sleepovers all around the _Vampirates Saga._ Basically, there’s this group of vampires on boats who act as pirates, going around hunting people on other boats. When they find one, they take them in, seduce them a little, and feed. As Benny ends every story, the victims “boarded, burned, and buried at sea.”

(That night in particular, the first night it’s told, ends in them cuddling. Dean’s the little spoon, but he can’t bother to care when he’s too busy actually sleeping for once.)

Dean’s particularly fond of Roy, who doubles as a restaurant server at a local hole-in-the-wall. Roy’s all about humans, but not in a vampiric way. Roy wants to coincide with them, and even falls in love with a Greek Goddess while hunting. But to his dismay, she gets turned by Roy’s maker when he finds out Roy disobeyed their family business.

Roy’s story reminds Dean a lot of his with his father. Not that he’s turned anyone into a vampire, but he part about Roy straying from his family’s expectations. Except, Dean’s been making an attempt at better ending for himself after leaving the house just short of his eighteenth birthday. That said, he and his father are on better terms. He hasn’t remarried (Dean doesn’t blame him—Mom, not to be biased, was beautiful), but he has a girlfriend now. Her name’s Tara. She’s nice.

Dean’s been listening to the _Vampirates_ series since he was twelve like a devoted fan, and it never gets old. How Benny comes up with new content is beyond him. And while Dean makes other friends along the way, Benny still remains his best and closest friend, and the _Vampirates Saga_ is a story shared only amongst them for a long time until eventually, they turn their childhood story into a comic book. Benny writes and Dean draws. Every issue gets good reception from Sam, who’s read pretty much everything ever published (fan fiction included), so it must be good.

One day they’ll publish _Vampirates_ , Or maybe they won’t. Either way, it’s still their story.

Until one day Dean writes his own.

It’s during their first week of freshman year at college that they both sit together on Dean’s top bunk when Dean offers to share his own original story for the first time. Benny’s eyes light up as he encourages Dean.

Dean smiles shyly through his first sentence, but delivers with confidence:

“Okay, so… there once was a boy named Dean, who was crazy in love with his best friend Benny…”

 

 

And, unlike the _Vampirates Saga,_ we all know how this story ends.

 

 

 


End file.
